Beyond Imagination
by Love-Rose.Ruby
Summary: May Clarice Richards, a famous Blues singer, is a girl who everybody thought was a brat. Drew was a famous painter. When they met, it wasn't all sparks and fireworks because as they continue thier journey, their lives stumble down the path of destiny.


Chapter One

"_I may be blue, but I don't mind  
because I know way down the line,  
I said someday, someday baby  
after a while, you will be sorry."_

May Clarice Richards strummed the wooden guitar once again, making sure that everything was perfect and in tact, the melody was perfect and her voice was perfect for the song. She smiled lightly under her covered eyes as she heard a dozen applauses and shouts from the numbers of people surrounding her under the stage.

She stood up and bowed, her dress flowing along the way. Her guitar was held tightly in her hands, fumbling the strings playfully. It had her name on it, May.

She went in her personal dressing room; she laid her guitar on her small bed. And immediately sat on the chair that was placed in front of the cabinet that has a circular mirror on it, she fixed her hair and brushed it properly, making it straight but wavy in some parts.

She grabbed a pink lip gloss and placed it lightly on her lips; she licked it and giggled with delight. She grabbed her guitar before leaving the room.

She flickered the lights with intensifying giggles. She smiled again to herself but once she reached the opened room where the customers laid, she frowned.

"What a feeler", she heard one girl say to the one beside her. Her eyes were once again filled with hurt and pain, despite her talent, some people hated her. And for the wrong idea, she looked at the tiled ground, feeling more frustrated than yesterday. She heard this all the time, people murmuring bad things about her. She was supposed to get used to this by now, but she didn't, because it just wasn't true.

She closed the glass door tightly, her hands gripping on it so much that it hurt. She let go of it angrily, the tears from eyes turning hot. She didn't bother to look at where she was going; she just wanted to run, to get _away_.

She didn't care what people say about her but it just wasn't the truth! She ran home, she unlocked the door, and quickly went inside.

Once she was in her bedroom she threw her guitar on the red bean bag. She pushed herself on the bed, scattering the papers on it making it fly upward and land on the floor quietly.

Tears were all around her face and bed. She was hugging her pillow tightly as if it was the only way to have dear life.

She muttered something before she looked outside the window and walked to the window pane and sat there for a while before seeing someone down the building yelling something at her which made her cry again. But no tears came out.

She desperately cried out before running down the stairs screaming and crying. Her eyes got red from crying and her face was pale and she looked like a walking ghost.

She opened the refrigerator and looked to see what she had left; leftovers. She grabbed the ham that was placed on the second row, it was still raw and she hadn't that much energy to cook.

So she took a cupped noodle that was on the top cupboard. She opened it lazily; she walked to the stove and heated some water. She sat on the chair and waited for ten minutes to pass, she almost forgot the water until the vapor the water came to her making her startled.

She jerked up and quickly shut the stove off. She poured the water in the cup, and then she went in her room again, turned on the television and began eating.

She slurped through it roughly, still annoyed by what happened this evening. She flashed from channel to channel but stopped completely when she saw herself perform just an hour ago on television.

She was confused; she hadn't seen any cameras when she performed. And then the television showed the reason.

"And that was, May Clarice Richards, the famous Blues singer in the whole region. Some people say, 'Why is she famous? She's just a snobby little brat'. Well, she may have known it by now, since she's been spot crying on the way home. Let's see the video", the news reporter had said.

The television showed her running home crying. May gaped and dropped the empty cup on the floor, together with the fork inside it. She blinked a dozen of times before turning off the television and threw the remote at it.

But not showing a crack or a little zap of electricity. She bit her lip to prevent her from screaming but it failed miserably, she screamed and screamed until she was out of voice.

She threw everything around her, once everything was out of place, she lay down on the bed with a thump, her face was paler and she has eye bugs under her eyes. She gripped on the sheets until it was ripped off by her nails.

_There has to be a way to prove to them that I'm not a sassy little brat_, she thought. _But how?_

She thought and thought but nothing came up in her mind, maybe through a song, she thought again, but they would think I'm lying.

The next morning she found herself sleeping on the floor and pillows scattered everywhere, the posters were ripped, the remote was on the floor and cracked. She sat up, groaned, and ran a hand through her brown hair.

"What happened last night?" she asked herself.

And then with a grit of her teeth, memories flooded her mind. She sighed deeply before fixing everything; she licked her lips since it was so dry. She grabbed her bathrobe after she was done putting everything in place.

She went inside the bathroom and remembered something again. "I hadn't taken a bath last night", she muttered softly. She threw her clothes on the floor and went inside the shower, the warm water surrounding her body. After she was done taking a bath, she put on her bathrobe and headed to her room again.

She wore her normal clothes, red top, white mini skirt with biker shorts and a pair of red sneakers. She combed her hair and put on her red bandana. She tied it tightly, and she quickly put on her thin gloves on her hands.

She looked at herself in the mirror before heading off downstairs to take a walk but then again maybe staying there inside the house was a better idea.

She went in the living room and began to search for book that she hadn't read yet. When she found nothing, she opened a cabinet that kept a diary she hadn't touch for a month. It held all her composed songs, ever since she learned how to write her mother bought her this notebook to help her writing improve.

She always wanted to be a singer and now she lived the dream but why does something felt missing, something in her heart. But she doesn't know what.

May grabbed the pen that was on the glass table, lying peacefully. She opened her notebook and searched for a missing page and then began to write. She smiled at herself, composing was easy for her, it was one of the talents she gained by practicing and she loved it.

Why was she doing this again? Oh right, because she couldn't go out. And now that she thought about it, the song was related to her. But _every_ song was related to her. It was _her_ song.

_Maybe I should sing this on my next performance_, she thought to herself. _It will show them that she is not a sassy little brat. _

She sighed as she finished writing. She began to go up to her room but then her stomach growled, and she remembered that hadn't eaten breakfast yet. She immediately went to the kitchen to get something to eat. She found no cans or noodles left to be eaten so she cooked the ham instead and side dish of toast.

She sliced the ham one by one and then put it all in a big plate. And then she heated up the stove and placed the frying pan in place. She left it there for a few minutes before getting a spatula.

She placed two hams at a time and left it there for a few seconds before flipping it again. When it was almost finished she took the toaster and filled the bread with butter and then placed it in and turned it on. Once she was done, she got a glass and filled it up with orange juice.

She walked up to her bedroom with a tray of her cooking. She put it all on the bed and began to dig in. she ate the ham even though it was still hot and the steam was covering up her face. She bit the toast and smiled when she heard the sound of crispy noises coming out of it.

When she was finally done eating she picked up the tray and went downstairs to place it on the sink. Since nothing was left to do inside the house, she went outside to have a walk in the park...


End file.
